MicroHorror

It didn’t surprise me to find the curtains drawn back, the blinds open and the sunlight, a diffuse and defiant orange, filtering into the room.

It didn’t surprise me to find his ashes, a fine, grayish dust, on the cushions of the sofa facing the window.

Sick of eternal life, my grandfather always said that he wanted to savor, at least once, one simple, mortal pleasure.

And he did.

That morning, his vampire eyes contemplated their first, and last, dawn.